


Twelve days of Shiro

by ragdollrory



Series: The one with all the Shiros [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, and more shiros than you can hold in your hands, some pre-christmas fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21732511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/pseuds/ragdollrory
Summary: Keith is tired, the work of a Blade member/Paladin never ends, and with his boyfriend being the Atlas Admiral, and the end of the year drawing near, he can't catch a break. Thanks the heavens that Shiro has a plan.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: The one with all the Shiros [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569526
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Twelve days of Shiro

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I just wanted to say thank you to anyone that reads this. It's my first VLD fic, and I was so nervous to post, so a big thanks to my lovely friend and beta Ilia, who always encourages me, and to Sai for giving me a twitter boost, and the title.

It’s the end of a long day aboard the Atlas, and Keith’s dragging his feet around the place. Just another one in an endless cycle that will only grow worse as Christmas and the new year come pressing in.

His day today was hopping around from meeting to meeting, and Keith is more than ready to call it a night. Ignore their never-ending list of tasks and commitments, and have a peaceful night with Shiro. But of course they can’t.

It doesn’t matter how many planets you save, you still can’t get away for a night. He sighs, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

The way through the ship to the Admiral’s quarters is easy. Partially because of all the times Keith has walked it, but also he suspects Atlas is making small adjustments here and there. Having him walk less.

Be it true or not- he can’t feel her like Shiro does, after all- Keith’s thankful, a hand lingering across the white panels of the walls in a silent gesture of thanks.

Just another turn around the corner, and he’s standing in front of Shiro’s door. A smile pulls through the exhaustion, shoulders losing some of their weight as well.

Can it be any other way, when his boyfriend’s waiting on the other side?

The sight that greets him though- well, Keith has grown somewhat accustomed to _the Shiros_ , yet he gets caught off guard each time there’s more than one in the room.

There are twelve of them now. Here.

He stops mid-stride, eyes evaluating the scene in front of him.

At his left, two work on the desk. He still has trouble identifying some of them, but can tell by the braid in one’s hair, that they go by Mars. Something about one of their childhood memories that stuck. Keith never asked Mars about it- or Shiro for that matter- what memory that was, to be so important for the first one to pick as their name, but Keith loved that each of the Shiros had chosen something to point out how unique they all are.

Over at the back of the room, two more Shiros work wrapping Christmas presents. A massive pile of them; for the Paladins, Atlas’ crew, the Blade of Marmora, and a bunch of friends from elsewhere.

Keith remembers making the list, but somehow seeing the pile of colorful wrapped packages is- so much _worse?_

Still, he can’t find it in himself to be upset about it. Sometimes Keith still has trouble believing he matters to someone other than Shiro, and his mom, but seeing the presents makes him smile. Those are all friends and found family, so he won’t complain. Much.

Putting a red bow on one of the boxes, Keith can tell Shiloh apart because of the fresh scar on the man’s cheek, not dissimilar to his own.

Keith takes the final steps inside, bewilderment keeping his eyes big at how all of the Shiros share the ability to get completely absorbed in their task, ignoring anything around them. Something warm settles in his chest at the blind trust they have in him.

To the right, four more are huddled over the coffee table, their voices hushed. Piper’s trademark jacket stands out.

Keith is not sure he wants to know what’s happening there. Sometimes, to be blissfully unaware is the best choice.

The rest of the Shiros mill around the room doing random tasks. One is working on a datapad, another is reading a massive tome of something.

Two of them are going over a holographic map, and Keith can identify the routes marked there.

They’re- all doing Keith and Shiro’s work?

Keith blinks a couple of times, torn between needing to ask ‘what the hell’, and straight out telling them to stop. Altogether flabbergasted.

"Um, Shiro?" And he should know better, really, especially with how they all thought themselves _so_ funny every time, but Keith is suddenly on the receiving end of twelve sets of eyes, and a chorus of "yes, Keith?"

He shakes his head, unable to hold back the chuckle no matter how big the roll of his eyes.

"So funny. Hilarious." Keith walks further into the room, working out of his jacket, and trying again.

"Takashi?" This time only a couple of them answer, a quick "here" resounding from all around the room, the rest going back to their tasks.

It's a sigh more for show than real annoyance, especially when one of them- Aeon, by the overly pierced ears- grins at him, that smile he was so familiar with, and kisses his forehead.

"Fine, you're really chirpy today." Keith crosses his arms over his chest, looking around the room. It's not that big of a place, really, but the commotion is bigger, and Keith can't place Shiro in it.

"Okay, where's _my_ Shiro?" He asks, teasingly.

"Aww, Keith, but we're all a little bit yours," Mars answers from the wrapping station. 

"You're impossible." This time he manages to keep his eyes from rolling, although his cheeks warm up against his will.

Just as he's about to give up and flop on the bed- or well, the unoccupied side of it, given the other brims with folders- the door to the bathroom opens.

"Keith, you're here!" It takes Keith's brain a moment to piece everything together, eyes darting across the face, the white hair, and the Admiral's uniform.

In that time, the man navigates through the Shiros, hands resting on Keith's hips. He looks down, finding gloves already on them, but he can swear they both feel equally warm.

"Nice try, Kuro." Keith smirks up at the man, playfully patting at a cheek, but reaching up to kiss the other. Kuro groans a good-natured complaint, and takes to lean on a wall.

And there he is, finally, stepping out of the bathroom as well, casually dressed, a pile of clothes on his hands.

Shiro's face lights up when his gaze falls on Keith, and Keith's stomach does a dumb flip that leaves him weak-kneed, no matter how many times it happens.

He blinks, and somehow they are in each other's arms, lips pressing in a soft kiss. Keith ignores the Shiros' reactions, that go from 'aww's' and clapping, to joking groans and a choking sound he can absolutely pinpoint to Kuro.

"Care to tell me what's happening here?" He asks Shiro's chin when they pull apart, looking up from under his lashes. Shiro's face pinks beautifully, lower lip trapped between his teeth in a sheepish gesture.

"Well, I just-" Altean hand scratching behind his neck, Shiro looks around, as if looking for someone to save him. "They offered." He adds after some seconds.

"Your boyfriend was drowning in a pile of things he never says no to," Kuro pushes himself off the wall, rolling his eyes in a mocking way Shiro hardly ever does. Keith can't explain how weird it is to see the gesture now, with the man looking exactly like the one at his side. "Found him all but crying-"

"I was not-" Shiro tries to interrupt, but gets cut off by a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"I was saying. Collapsed over your list of things to do before the end of the year, that is physically impossible to finish unless you suddenly become more than two men. And so I made some calls, and here we are. Consider this your Christmas miracle." He grins, and even when Keith can see the resemblance- duh, of course, they are _more_ than similar- he can always spot the tiny differences between Shiro and Kuro the best.

His smiles are always sharper, the corner of his lips tighter, and displaying so many teeth he could very well be the shark in a movie.

"And you let them?" Keith's brows furrow, catching Shiro's eyes once more. His boyfriend shrugs, and at that moment he looks more like a chastised kid, than the Admiral of an intergalactic transforming ship.

"They said they don't mind." Around them there's a mess of voices agreeing with Shiro's words, adding some of their personal reasons to do them a favour. Keith stares at each of them, trying to decide if he's comfortable with the situation, trying to catch one of them in a lie.

He can't, and he's tired, and the idea of a free anything is so tempting. 

"Good, I knew you'd accept eventually." Kuro clasps his free hand on Keith's shoulder, making him jump slightly. "Was faster than I figured though, now I owe ten GAC to Pidge, so thanks for that."

Keith doesn't have the time to ask why Pidge knows about this or how often the two of them bet on Keith's actions, before he and Shiro get all but pushed out of their room, luggage shoved into their hands.

"Anyway, here are your bags, some snacks Hunk prepared for you, I think there's a bottle of something Coran sent, and some candy from Lance too." Kuro speaks fast, clearly ready to have them out, where Keith knows not, the Shiros in the background waving happily behind him. "Oh, and an itinerary of the places you definitely cannot go unless you want Shiro's cover to be blown."

"Cover? Oh." The hair and the uniform makes sense now, Shiro still unable to catch his eye, the blush now falling into his shirt. "What about-"

"The Blade, yes, yes." Kuro waves his hand around uninterestedly, gaze focused elsewhere. "It was taken care off. _That_ you can thank your mom for, little kit." He pats Keith's cheek, a clear retaliation from earlier. Keith pretends to bite his fingers, and Kuro pulls the hand away with an offended gasp.

"Okay, now I'm tired of you, so off you go." He takes a step forward, promptly pushing them the remaining way out of the room. "Shiro, take care of the kit. Kit," Kuro's eyes set on him. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to regret it on the way, so he closes it once before adding. "Yeah, him you can bite, I'm sure the weirdo likes it. Bye bye, Pala-dudes."

And just like that they are kicked out of their living quarters. Keith is still processing the whole thing when they arrive to the hangar, this time completely sure of the Atlas making a straight path for them to go unnoticed.

Shiro, even when he's now blushing on every inch of visible skin is taking this well enough. Putting their stuff on a small craft, leading Keith inside, and settling on the pilot's seat to get the ship going.

Kuro's voice from the bridge gives them permission to take off, and Keith sits there wondering what the hell just happened. And then they're off through a wormhole only Allura could've opened, and exactly how many people knew about this and he didn't?

"Shiro." Keith finally speaks when they're on the other side, eyes wide with worry and unanswered questions.

"Kosmo's in the back, sleeping probably." He answers, hands working on setting the ship on automatic, and at last he's in front of Keith. "Hey."

"Hey." Keith replies, the reality of them being truly _away_ is finally setting in him. He can feel his back muscles loosening. "How long have you planned this for?"

"A while." Shiro shrugs as if it were nothing. As if he broke a thousand and some rules, and got their friends and family involved in it, everyday. "You've been tired, and I wanted to do something nice."

"You've been tired too." Keith answers, the pocket of love that's opened in his chest keeps getting bigger with each second they are away from everything. Closer to themselves. "Thank you, but-"

Shiro's eyes widen just so, and Keith shakes his head, swallowing down his worries. They deserve this moment, they've earned it, and nothing will happen if they rest only a little. "How much time do we have?"

"Until the New Year’s Eve gala, sadly. I have someone to cover for me, but I'm afraid you don't." Keith pouts, in a show just for his boyfriend, who snickers. "Unless you have a twin you've never told me about."

"I'm afraid not." Keith closes the distance between them, fingers running over Shiro's undercut, closing at the nape of his neck.

They kiss. Slow, and leisurely, and taking every moment in the universe to taste the other, and it's only by a bright pop next to them that they stop.

"Kosmo, hey buddy." Keith smiles down at his faithful wolf, something on him catching his eye. He kneels. "Hey, what do you have here, boy?"

The wolf opens his mouth, dropping a little box on Keith's hand, and making good use of his now free tongue to lick at his face.

Keith is not breathing though, and he can sense Shiro has become really still next to him. It's with trembling fingers that he opens the lid, imagining what he'll find inside, and still gasping when he sees it.

"Shiro?" He asks, not daring to move his eyes from the pale silver ring that sits in the box.

Shiro's voice is wavering around the words, as if he's unsure of what the answer to the unasked question will be. "I, um. It was not supposed to be now, but I guess Kosmo got excited, and-"

Shiro says nothing more, because Keith's on him in a second, teeth clashing together in a messy kiss between words of acceptance. They tumble down against the console, and to the floor, an alarm rings for a second above them before Shiro reaches up to quiet it, laughter pouring into the kiss.

Keith forgets about the exhaustion and the Shiros pretending and doing their work back at the Atlas. He forgets about the Paladins betting on him, and the gala they have to go back to.

Right now there's only Shiro. The one Shiro he knows and has loved for years, that holds Keith's face as if he's the most precious thing, and that gets to be Keith's forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Um, follow me on Twitter if you want to? There's a lot of retweets now, but I'll slowly add my own stuff.


End file.
